Revive Me

I recently found myself front and center at a Revivalists concert, and it was an experience.

This is part love letter to The Revivalists, part thank-you to live music for being a source of all that is good in this world: connection, creativity, expression, and dance dance dance.

Quick backstory: I was playing their song Soulfight in my yoga class, and my friend Jane said, “This is The Revivalists!”
Me: “I know. I love them.”
Jane: “Oh, I’m a RevHead. I’ve been to 16 shows. They’re playing Saturday at Levitate—let me know if you want to come.”
Me: Okay! Maybe (and what’s a RevHead…?)

Music festivals aren’t really my thing. I don’t drink or smoke. I worry about porta-potties because I pee every hour. But, I’ve been listening to this band for years, so f*ck it I bought a ticket.

Two days later, Jane made sure we were front row, pressed against the rail, waiting an hour before the band started. Also not my thing. I was standing there thinking:
I don’t love crowds. These people are smoking in my face. These ones seem a little rowdy—am I going to regret this?

But then the music started and OH MY GOD—what have I been doing with my life?

The lead singer came out last and I was like OH.

The 37-year-old me feels like she should say, “I respect your artistry and thank you for sharing your gifts,” but also DAMN, DUDE. You are the real deal. Rockstar energy. Super magnetic and engaging. Good for you. And also I love you.

He’s a vibe.

Coming back to Earth—I believe what most of us want more than anything is to be seen in our full, authentic expression (we just don’t always know what that means or how to find it).
Being in the energy of that is inspiring. I’m not a singer, but I want to do what I do with that much presence.

There’s a line I say to myself often: Maggie, move from love, not for love.

This show was also an experience of moving from love. I don’t quite know what I mean by that, other than: it was so pure in its expression, I couldn’t feel anything other than joy.

I rode the high of that for a few days, and then I crashed—and felt really sad.
Sad that those moments of true joy have become few and far between.
Sad that I’ve been taking myself so seriously and trying so hard to get it right.
Sad that I still can’t seem to move from love, but constantly feel a quiet desperation of please like me beneath the surface of all that I do.
Sad that I attach ideas of grandeur to any fleeting moment of connection instead of living presently, connected to myself.
Sad that I’ve never expressed myself so freely.

And in all of this sadness, there is appreciation.
Appreciation that I’ve developed enough awareness to recognize that emotions moving through you in this way are a clearing, an opening, a shift.

What am I shifting into?

Having more fucking fun, people.

Don’t get me wrong, there’s a time and place for therapy, coaching, energy healing. I’m here for all of it. And if we’ve ever chatted, you know I love to get INTO it and dive to the depths with you about the messy, challenging aspects of life. It engages me, and I love the work.

But let’s not forget our joy. It’s not a reward.

I love that Jane introduced me to the RevHeads.
It reminded me of being a kid on the playground.
You’re here? I’m here. Let’s be friends.
I like this band, you like this band? Let’s dance.

There’s an innocence in that.
A kind of openness most of us lose touch with as we get older.
Just enjoying the same music is enough to create a bond—and that’s a beautiful thing.

So, count me in!

I’m seeing them in September.
Wanna join?

Let’s dance.